


Side by Side, 'Til the End of the Line

by austria13



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, More Tags Will Be Added as the Story Goes On, basically bucky doesn't die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-20 09:52:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1506149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/austria13/pseuds/austria13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bucky almost fell out of that train car, Steve caught him--barely.  They're still stuck to each other's sides, just like when they were growing up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by the fabulous Maria aka MariG_14 who can be found [here](http://curse-you.tumblr.com/)

Bucky clung to the railing of the train for dear life, dangling thousands of feet above the snowy chasm as Steve stepped out onto the ledge to grab his hand.  The railing began to tear away from the carriage door and Bucky’s hands began to slip off the rail. “ _Steve!_ ” Bucky shouted. “I can’t hold on!”

There was a sound of rending, of tearing, screaming metal and Bucky screamed as he fell into the abyss.  With perfect timing, Steve grabbed the collar of his jacket and hauled him back into the carriage.  They rolled away from the edge and lay there, panting, Bucky sprawled across Steve’s chest as his pounding heart slowed to a more normal pace.

“Couldn’t’ve cut it any closer, could ya?” There’s no real rancor in Bucky’s voice, almost the same teasing tone that Bucky’s always used with Steve.  Steve would never mention it and Bucky would never admit it, but they both knew that there was a faint, trembling undertone of fear in Bucky’s voice

“Maybe a little bit,” Steve says, hoisting himself to his feet and holding out a hand for Bucky, “but you know I’d never let you fall.  I need someone to make me look good in front of Agent Carter.”  Bucky smiled and chuckled, and followed Steve into the next car to continue their mission.

 

* * *

 

A week after the train was when Steve and the Howling Commandos attacked Schmidt’s lair.  Steve rode ahead on his motorcycle packed with explosives, flipping off it just in time for the bike to slam into the door and blast a hole in it.  Bucky followed closely behind.  A Hydra soldier snuck behind Steve and was about to fire on the Captain—until Bucky shot him in the neck.  Steve looked behind and nodded at Bucky, who merely smirked in response.

What they didn’t see, however, were the soldiers with flamethrowers who surrounded them, blocking any chance of escape. The pair were taken into custody and marched along through the facility to Schmidt’s headquarters.  When the other Commandos freed Steve and Bucky, Schmidt fled.  Steve sprinted after him and Bucky followed, albeit at a slower pace.

When a flamethrowing soldier blocked Steve’s way, it was fortunate that Bucky had been a bit behind.  He managed to sneak through a hallway to come up alongside the flamethrowing giant, shooting him in the weak spot of his armor.  When he keeled over, Steve looked up and saluted Bucky, who ran up alongside of him. “Not the first time I saved your ass,” Bucky panted.

The two of them just barely managed to catch Schmidt’s plane, with Colonel Phillips and Agent Carter’s help.  There was terrifying instant where Bucky almost didn’t manage to grab the plane’s wheel, but, just like on the train, Steve caught Bucky’s jacket and hauled him up to safety.  “I think we’re even for the day,” Steve called over the noise of the plane.

“You wish,” Bucky responded, “you still owe me one.”

Their banter was brought to an abrupt halt when they climbed into the plane proper and saw the weapons bay with its arsenal of planes fully loaded with bombs destined for America’s biggest cities.  The two of them got to work eliminating all of the enemy soldiers in the weapons bay.

Eight minutes precisely after entering the plane, the two of them found the cockpit. Steve went ahead, quietly creeping in, only to find it seemingly deserted.  “You don’t give up, do you?” a voice came from the back of the room.  Steve whirled to see Schmidt casually approaching him.

Suddenly, Bucky was behind Schmidt, holding a pistol straight to the back of his skull.  “No.  We don’t,” he growled.

Schmidt chuckled then, a low, evil sound.  Before even Steve could see, Schmidt whirled around and his fist smashed into Bucky’s temple with a dull thud, knocking him unconscious. He crumpled, his limbs strewn around awkwardly.

“ _Bucky!_ ” Steve shouted helplessly.  A cold anger settled into the pit of his stomach as Schmidt sauntered forward.  Steve attacked with a yell, launching himself at Schmidt and slamming headfirst into his stomach.  Schmidt separated himself from Steve and punched back, flinging Steve into the control panel.  The plane tilted downwards, sending the two of them into the ceiling.  When the stabilizers righted the aircraft, Schmidt slammed directly into the Tesseract’s housing, damaging it beyond repair.

“What have you done?!” Schmidt cried as he removed the Tesseract from the cracked casing.  It began to crackle with electricity, raising the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck and giving off blue sparks that condensed into what appeared to be a portal to outer space.  “No—“ Schmidt gasped as the blue cube began to eat away at him.  “ _No!_ ”  With one final scream cut to an abrupt halt, the cube sent up a column of light, consuming Schmidt and nearly blinding Steve.  After an instant, the light vanished and the Tesseract fell to the floor with an ordinary thump, deceptively appearing as a harmless glowing blue cube once more.  It then melted through the floor of the plane and was whisked away by the wind.

_Good riddance_ , Steve thought as he retrieved Bucky’s unconscious body from the rear of the room.  He carried him over to the copilot’s chair, strapping him in and lightly slapping his face.  “Bucky, come on,” Steve said, “wake up.  I need your help to fly this thing.”  Bucky gave no response.  “Damn,” Steve whispered as he strapped himself in to the pilot’s seat and tried to make sense of the controls.  The craft’s controls seemed to be fairly standard, but damaged beyond any repair that Steve could do while in the air.  He turned on the radio and called in to headquarters.  “Hello, this is Captain Rogers, do you read me?”

“Steve, is that you?  Are you all right?” came Agent Carter’s voice from the other end.

“Schmidt’s dead,” Steve began, “but…”

“What about the plane?” Peggy demanded.  “Is the plane functional?  Can you fly back?  Can you land?”

“The controls are too damaged for me to safely change course,” Steve responded.  “This thing is still loaded with enough explosives to blow up every major city in America.”  He paused, then added, “…I have to put her in the water.”

“No!” Peggy called over the radio.  “Steve, there’s got to be another way.”

“Peggy, I don’t know how to fix these controls in time to keep the bombs from dropping.  If I don’t put her in the water now, a lot of people are gonna die.”

There was static from the other end of the line, and then a choked sigh.  “All right,” Peggy responded, tone businesslike with only a hint of emotion.  “But you still owe me a dance.”

Steve smiled, though his eyes were watering.  “I’m gonna need a rain check on that.”

Agent Carter smiled through her tears.  “All right.  A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club.”

“You got it.”

“Eight o’clock on the dot.  Don’t you dare be late. Understood?”

“Understood,” Steve said, turning off the radio before his voice could betray his fear.

“You can’t dance for shit,” came a faint voice from next to him.

“Bucky!” Steve exclaimed as he looked over to his right.  “Thank god you’re okay.”

“Okay might be putting it a bit lightly.” Bucky winced as he pulled himself to a proper sitting position in the copilot’s chair.  “Why are we heading north?  Why aren’t we heading for a landing place?”

“Bucky, I’m so sorry for dragging you into this,” Steve started, “you deserved so much better, so much _more_ than this.  You looked after me for years, and I—I couldn’t even take care of you for a few lousy months.”  He paused, and explained “The plane’s controls are busted.  And this bird is still loaded with enough ammo to turn all the big cities in America to dust.”  He looked at Bucky, jaw set.  “I can’t let that happen.”

“Damn right you can’t,” Bucky responded, gripping Steve’s arm.  “And for the record, you’ve looked after me just fine since you rescued me from Zola.”  He let go of Steve’s arm and laughed.  “Even though I can’t even count how many times I’ve saved your ass since.”

Steve laughed, and immediately sobered as the plane showed its heading: straight north.  He looked at Bucky, a question in his eyes.  Bucky nodded, and grabbed Steve’s hand.  “I’m with you to the end of the line.”

Steve took that for the signal it was to tilt the plane’s nose straight downward.  As they fell toward the water, he gripped Bucky’s fingers tighter than he thought possible while looking at the blank whiteness rushing up to meet them.  Right before they hit the ice, he looked at Bucky.

“Til the end of the line.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so basically this chapter is sort of just to move the plot along, so stick with me! I promise fun stuff will happen in chapter 3!

Bucky opened his eyes to a blank white ceiling, to a gentle, cool breeze, to the static fuzz of a radio and the speedy midday bustle of Brooklyn.  He sat up gingerly, muscles protesting every inch.  Steve was already pacing the room, brow furrowed. As soon as he noticed Bucky sitting upright, he hurried over and grabbed his best friend in a hug so tight that Bucky’s aching muscles practically screamed in protest.

“Easy there, Cap,” Buddy patted Steve’s back as he released him. “I’m all right.”

“Something’s wrong, Buck,” Steve said, eyebrows still drawn together in consternation.

“What are you talking about, Steve?” Bucky asked.  “So we survived the plane and now we’re in a hospital somewhere.  What’s wrong with that?”

“No, Buck, the game—“ Steve’s protest was cut short as the door opened and a smiling nurse entered the room.

“Captain, Sergeant,” she nodded at each man with his respective title. “How are you feeling?”

“We’re just fine, if a little sore.”  Bucky’s flirtatious smile was almost as familiar to Steve as the sky itself.  Bucky coughed once and added “And a little thirsty. Could we get some water?”

“Of course,” she replied. “Anything else I can get for you, Officers?”

“Yeah,” Steve responded, more than a little hostile.  “Where are we? Who are you?”  Bucky elbowed him hard in the ribs, but Steve acted like he didn’t even feel it.

“You’re in a recovery hospital in Brooklyn,” the nurse replied.  “I’m Nurse Pratchett, and—“

“Bullshit.” Steve’s voice was deadly serious. Bucky’s eyes widened and he punched Steve in the arm.

The nurse’s smile faltered but, to her credit, never fully dropped.  “I don’t think I’m the most qualified to answer your questions. Please relax.  I will send someone in to you in just a second.”

“Thanks,” Bucky replied weakly.  Nurse Pratchett nodded tersely, spun on her heel, and walked off.  If the door closed a little sharply behind her, well, Bucky could hardly blame her.  “Steve, what the hell was that? I can barely remember the last time you swore, and in front of a lady at that—!”

“They’re lying to us, Bucky.” Steve had his elbows braced on his knees, fingers laced together, nearly vibrating from the energy it was taking to keep himself still.  “I don’t know who it is, or why, but _they are lying to us_.”

“What gave it away?” Steve jumped to a standing position at the sound of the voice coming from next to the door. Neither he nor Bucky had even heard the door open.  The stranger was black-skinned, clad all in black and, oddly enough, wearing a patch over his left eye. He closed the door behind him and casually walked across the room to the chair by the desk, seating himself and crossing one leg comfortably over the other.

“It was the game.” Steve still hadn’t sat down yet. Bucky knew that stance—arms by his side with fists clenched, weight on the balls of his feet—that was Steve’s battle-at-any-moment stance.  The stranger merely quirked one eyebrow.  Steve elaborated: “It’s an old game.  1941, I think.  I was there. I remember it.”

The stranger pursed his lips and nodded.  “Observant. Just like your file said.”

“What file?” Bucky moved to stand by Steve

“Ah, the famous Sergeant Barnes.  I can’t tell you how happy I was to hear that you’d survived too.”  From the look of him, the stranger had never been happy in his life.

“Survived what?” Now it was Bucky’s turn to be suspicious.  He trusted Steve’s instincts, after all.  “Who are you?” he demanded.

The stranger rose, dusted himself off, and held out his hand, first to Steve, who gingerly shook, then to Bucky, who shook just as gingerly.  “Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.” he introduced himself. “You boys have been asleep for quite a while.”

Steve and Bucky exchanged a look.  “What do you mean?” Bucky asked tentatively.  “Where’s Agent Carter? And Colonel Phillips?”

Nick Fury looked at them, and in any other man, the expression might have been pity.  “We have a lot to talk about.”

 

* * *

 

Hours later, Steve and Bucky sat, dumbstruck, side by side on the bed.  From his position in the chair across the room, Fury asked “Are you boys all right?”

Bucky let out a deep, heavy breath and, after a short pause, nodded.  “Yeah, we’re all right, it’s…it’s just…”

Steve’s voice was soft. “…It’s a lot to take in.”  Bucky silently gripped his shoulder.

“What Cap said,” Bucky said, finally looking up at Fury.  “Seems like we’ve missed quite a bit.”

“You can say that again.” Steve seemed to finally be coming out of himself.  He had been silent ever since Fury had said how long they’d been under the ice, leaving Bucky to ask all the questions.  Bucky hadn’t minded asking the questions, but he’d begun to worry about Steve when he hadn’t said anything for hours on end.  Steve stood up from the bed and stretched, back cracking when he twisted from side to side.

Bucky stood up too. He wanted to make a joke about “old bones” or something along those lines when his bones cracked, but he knew that it wouldn’t be well-received today.  He merely asked, “So, do you want to see what’s changed around here?”

Steve nodded, still quieter than usual.  Bucky clapped him on the shoulder and led the way out of the room.  When they left, they realized that the “hospital room” in which they’d been lying for god knows how long was really a sort of box contained in a massive room, almost like a hangar bay.  There were two guards in full riot gear outside of the door they left, which took Bucky a little by surprise.  “Excuse me, boys, but do you know where we could find someone to show us around?” he asked one of them. The guard nodded and pointed to a door across the hangar.  “Thanks,” Bucky responded.

He and Steve crossed the hangar to the door that the guard had indicated.  “Ready?” Bucky asked Steve.  The blond nodded.  Bucky smiled. “Let’s see what the future looks like.” Bucky pushed open the door, and stopped in his tracks, causing Steve to bump into him.  The two of them were suddenly overwhelmed by bright lights, voices and beeps sounding from all around the room, and screens visible everywhere.

“Holy shit,” Bucky said.

“Welcome to the future,” Steve breathed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading guys! I saw TWS and I got really emotional over Bucky needing a happy ending. Please comment and let me know what you thought! Y'all are fab!
> 
> come say hi on tumblr: bbybuckybarnes


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